


Irredeemable

by melodious_me



Series: Prompt fills [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale confesses, Bible references, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Feels, Gen, because someone beware that they ever have a conversation sober, if you squint a bit - Freeform, just making sure I don't miss any tags, long overdue conversations, no love confessions though, real talk, so many feels, the typical abuse of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22744630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodious_me/pseuds/melodious_me
Summary: It shouldn’t have come to this. It never came to this. How had it come to this?No matter how drunk they had gotten over the past millennia – and, Lord, had they been drunk – they had always avoided the sensitive topics. Some things weren’t meant to be discussed. The great, ineffable things.After the averted Apocalypse, Aziraphale starts to talk about the things that normally weren't talked about.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Prompt fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635397
Kudos: 29





	Irredeemable

**Author's Note:**

> This is my prompt fill for "Irredeemable" (like, come on, when you read that word in your prompt list, you'd also immediately jump to that one scene in your head, right?)
> 
> I'm not sure how much I agree with what I've written when it comes to the curses bestowed on my two useless pretties, but hey, that's what prompts are for, right? I decided to give it a go and rolled with it.
> 
> If I missed any important tags, gimme a heads up and I'll add them, I just read this over so many times that I'm blind to the obvious by now.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

It shouldn’t have come to this. It never came to this. How had it come to this?

No matter how drunk they had gotten over the past millennia – and, Lord, had they been drunk – they had always avoided the sensitive topics. Some things weren’t meant to be discussed. The great, ineffable things. There was nothing good coming from debating Her plans; Crowley knew that all too intimately.

So, again, he was very convinced that this conversation had no right of happening at all. And yet, it did, and was doing so as Crowley still contemplated at which point he had taken the wrong exit to end up like this. Like this being entirely too sober, he suddenly realized, and reached for the opened bottle of wine, filling his glass well over the point a wine glass was meant to be filled to.

“Can’t say I’ve cared about it much, lately,” he said, and took a big swig. That was mostly true and vastly depended on Aziraphale’s definition of ‘lately’. If lately meant since his drive to Tadfield Airbase and the week after, that was only now coming to an end, he really hadn’t thought about it much lately. If lately included the week before the Apocanope, well, that was another thing entirely. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had given the entire thing way too much thought. With the end times coming, he had recapitulated way too much of his life. Which was coined by two equally embarrassing topics: his relationship with the Principality, and the Almighty. Respectively, of course. They were completely separate things in Crowley’s mind and he was grateful that the Angel had never tried to mess with it.

The Almighty was one of the things they never brought up in conversation. Except for the rare cases that Crowley blasphemed, which were few and far between, because it might be all fun and games to ruffle his angel’s feathers a bit in doing so, but it left the most horrid taste in his mouth. So, no Almighty in conversation since She had decided to not directly intervene with Earth’s fate anymore. And he didn’t really see why they should change that now.

“I must say, it’s been worrying me some,” Aziraphale said while swirling his wineglass. “What with all the mess about the right and the wrong thing going on lately, the question came up, I suppose. I mean, this must have been according to Her ineffable plan, mustn’t it? Else it wouldn’t have happened. Else, I’d have been punished. Right?”

“ _We_ would have been punished, angel. Not just you. And if you want my perfectly honest opinion, I think she lost the plot a couple millennia ago and couldn’t be bothered even if it all went up in flames. So, inarguably, everything always goes according to plan because there is no blasted plan anymore.” That was one of his newer ideas. Crowley didn’t believe She was gone, oh no, and he had no illusions about what kept Her busy and bothered these days, whether She had a new pet project or whether She was simply enjoying this freakish sitcom Earth, Heaven and Hell had become.

Aziraphale gasped.

“Crowley, you mustn’t – How can you say that?” Crowley shot him a funny look.

“Angel, it might have slipped your notice, but I haven’t been known for censoring myself when it came to questions, push comes to shove. And since I’m paying for it, I think I have every right to voice every question that crosses my mind.”

“What do you mean, since you’re paying for it?” At his words, Aziraphale sat up straighter and leaned a bit towards him and Crowley did him the favour of taking off his glasses. Rather the conscious decision to take them off than having the angel try to scrutinize him through them. “You… You served your sentence, didn’t you?” Crowley snorted.

“I Fell, angel, you can say it. And that’s neither here nor there, now, is it?” Aziraphale furrowed his brows and Crowley sighed. “True, the Fall is over. Been there, done that.” Why wasn’t he obnoxiously drunk already? Something made him forget his drink every three sentences, so Crowley decided to simply drain his glass to prevent it from happening again. “Wouldn’t say it’s over, though, is it? My sentence was not to Fall, my sentence is defraying my existence as a demon. And until I’m leaving for good, that’s not served, is it?” Aziraphale looked at him wide eyed – and drained his own glass. Yes, this had gotten gloomier than it ever had any right to get. “She’s more of the life-sentence kind when it comes to punishing the immortal. Not everything forgiven and forgotten once you cleaned the slate. Never forgiven and forgotten.” It had come out a lot more bitter than Crowley had intended it to and had revealed a great deal more than he’d usually have allowed it, but he refrained from blaming it on the alcohol. After all, he had chosen to be intoxicated for this conversation and he wouldn’t regret that decision half a minute later already.

“You mean the Ark,” Aziraphale said distantly, and reached for Crowley’s glass to refill it. Crowley shrugged.

“Dunno. For them, it was also some kind of life sentence, wasn’t it? Their lives being terminated tends to stretch ‘till the end of your days, doesn’t it? And the Garden business also got everyone into more trouble than we bargained for. So.” He took the glass, this time not almost filled to the brim, and mockingly saluted towards Aziraphale, who merely returned the gesture. After another moment of silence, he said:

“I don’t know, I think it all worked out rather well.” Crowley barked out a laugh that was far from kind.

“You would say so, wouldn’t you? You got out of it, unblemished, and God only knows why. Literally.” Crowley hated the bitterness in his voice. He didn’t hold it against Aziraphale that he got away, not at all, although it sounded differently. He wasn’t sure who to blame. He didn’t blame God for sparing him, nor did he entirely blame Her for bestowing her curse on Humanity – only… Did it have to be a curse? Did it have to be damnation? Crowley wasn’t one to ponder semantics, but it could simply have been part of the deal. Here you go, have an apple, beware, good and evil, childbirth and labour, there you go.

“That would have been the easy way out, wouldn’t it? Maybe we had to realize that there were sacrifices worth making. Maybe that was the first lesson, now that we all knew good and evil. I don’t think I’ve ever asked Eve whether she thought it worth the trouble.” Crowley was mostly astounded that he had uttered any of his words out loud, but here they were. “I like to think that neither of them did, and that they knew that a curse, that damnation wasn’t anything to aspire, but something worth risking if the stakes were high enough.” Now it were Crowley’s ears that were ringing.

“ _We_ had to realize that sacrifice thing? Not to be presumptuous, angel, but what did you sacrifice?” Aziraphale looked like he wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else.

“Did I say we? Wasn’t even aware.”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley leered through gritted teeth.

“Not much, just my rank. A demotion isn’t much to talk about, in comparison, is it? Gave me better looks, if nothing else.” A smile washed over his face, an insecure one that wasn’t even properly trying to laugh it up. Poor excuse of a laugh, really. Crowley raised his eyebrows.

“What’d you look like before?” Aziraphale’s look became distant, a sad smile tugged at the corner of his lips, make them twitch nervously.

“Oh, you know, all Heavenly and Mighty. Ridiculous, really, especially since I had never shown myself that way on Earth. I was one of the Cherubim, when I was still guarding Eden. After Eden… Principality. Down by a pair of wings and lost a couple of heads in the process. Not that they were worth anything, really. All I ever needed was one head and one set of wings and maybe I had thought so before and maybe that’s where it got me. But you have to admit, it was a demotion well deserved. I did an abysmal job of keeping you from tempting Eve.” There was a determined expression on his face now, one that spoke of conviction: He had deserved what had happened and there was no use in mourning his loss because it was just.

“You said the Almighty never brought it up again,” Crowley said incredulously, and as he wanted to take another sip of his wine, he found his glass mournfully empty. He frowned at the glass, deeming this wine an inconvenience because it was never where it should be: When he should have been drunk, the wine stubbornly remained in his glass for far longer than necessary and now that he wanted to actually drink it, it was woefully gone. He made sure to remember the vintage to not make that mistake again.

“Oh, well, She didn’t. Not the sword thing. You cannot imagine my surprise that nothing came from it, seeing how it ended up eventually. The toss-up my guarding duty had resolved in, well, that wasn’t a thing to ignore so easily.”

“And you never thought about telling me?” Aziraphale looked down at the glass in his lap.

“Thought about it. Never saw a reason or opportunity to bring it up. Also, it is written. If you squint.”

“Angel, I have done my utmost to be as far away from a Bible as I possibly can.” Aziraphale shot a pointed look at his desk and the bookshelf closest to them, conveniently decked with several Bibles from several centuries, Bibles he had possessed for longer than he cared to admit. Crowley made a face that made it clear that this was obviously something else, this was an Angel’s bookshop, not a church, after all, and it was not if he was studying them, and if he had thrown a glance over Aziraphale’s shoulder while he’d been studying them, well, who was he to blame, he was a curious creature, and why did he defend himself now anyway, this hadn’t been about him two minutes ago.

To Crowley’s surprise, it was silent, and it dawned on him that his tumbling thoughts had remained unvoiced – not that he minded, on the contrary. He was merely surprised he hadn’t said them anyways.

“And anyways, Genesis isn’t exactly known for being accurate. I, for one, do not remember the part where She told Adam that he now ruled over Eve, and man should rule over wife, and who cocked that up?” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.

“And I thought you’d know. I never asked, but were you present at the election of the gospels?” Crowley snorted.

“As if. Although I have to say, now knowing how it went down, I really, really should have been. You?” An equally displeased snort from the Angel.

“Please. I thought it to be ridiculous at the time and thought it to be a thing they would soon get tired of.” Crowley cackled and Aziraphale smiled at him good-naturedly. “Yes, I see that now as well.”

“You fell and stopped two stairs down the hill!”, Crowley suddenly blurted out, somewhat triumphant, and that in and of itself had Aziraphale giggling. Crowley looked adorably victorious having come up with that thought.

“My dear, I’m sure I do not know what you mean,” he said as he tried to steady his breathing.

“No, your demotion, don’t you see? That’s like… being atop the stairs and tumbling down unto the foot of it only to find the gates closed. Or maybe they weren’t and you just stumbled down the steps and stopped before the free fall.” Aziraphale’s smile turned soft.

“I thought the Fall was more of a metaphorical, metaphysical thing than actually falling through space.”

“Nah, bit of both,” Crowley said, still too caught in his own thoughts to censor his words. Because that’s another thing simply not talked about. The actual Fall. “But… You’re always so proud saying you’re a Principality,” he mumbled incredulously.

“What was that, dear?” Crowley shook his head. He recognized an insensitive remark when he heard one. Tough luck that he actually had to hear it, even when he was saying them himself.

“Nothing. Stupid thing to say.” Aziraphale tilted his head in a manner that clearly suggested that he wasn’t having it. “You’re so proud of being a Principality,” he said, as neutral as possible considering the rising level of alcohol. Aziraphale's face lit up at that.

"Oh, but I am. This task is... I mean, I'll admit, in the beginning I was... mournful over having lost my position so close to Her. I found myself troubled and I think there was a short time when I was close to taking the final leap, so to speak. I... Now it sounds ridiculous, I know, but I resented them. Humans, I mean. Earth, maybe, although in comparison to Heaven, I always found it rather exciting. Somehow it was very dreadful, wasn't it, Eve not obeying to the one and only rule, than the thing between Cain and Abel... I had come to Earth with the intention of loving them, and then I was robbed of my position because of their flaws and they continued to be such... reckless creatures and... I can see that I have wronged them, and my distress is barely an excuse for it, but I'd like to think She's forgiven me my wavering for I am still an Angel. And to guard those lovely people, to live among them, being allowed to interact with them... I still consider it a gift from Her and therefore my demotion is nothing I dread anymore." Crowley looked at him in wonder. And now that Aziraphale had stopped his rambling, he looked back up at Crowley and smiled softly. "I think that's the first time I've admitted that," he added softly and Crowley was close to sliding down the sofa and becoming a puddle of limbs. "Are you quite alright, my dear?"

The pathetic "Ngk," spoke volumes. "'m fine. Surprised. Mean... didn't know. Expect. That's the word. Never thought..."

"I know, it's nothing I'm proud of, I assure you. I was quite self-absorbed at that time." That was not at all what Crowley meant, but since he was still rendered mostly immobile, he only managed to turn his head and frown.

That was... quite a lot, now, wasn't it? Crowley had never suspected that Aziraphale had come even remotely close to doubting Her, his faith had always seemed so unwavering, and his love for Earth something that amused Crowley in its naiveté. But... those thoughts... Loving God more than her creations wasn't a new idea. It was what had started the entire landslide of fallen Angels Crowley had been caught up in, after all. And back then, he didn't even have an opinion on humans yet. He'd been wondering. Why create a new species? Weren't Angels enough? Was it something they'd done? Was it something they could improve? Was She looking for simply more? Did She know what more was? Why did Lucifer have to Fall? Why was it wrong to have some Angels adore Her more than humanity? Why were different opinions something that wasn't allowed? Could Angels live in harmony despite their different opinions? Wouldn't be finding harmony be more resourceful than simply abandoning the problem?

Maybe the thing that rattled him was that Aziraphale believed She had forgiven him, and knowing all of this, Crowley felt like he knew why. Or at least could understand better. It was just that he had never thought Her to be forgiving, not in the slightest, and while there weren't any floods or destructions of entire cities directed by She Herself anymore, Crowley had never seen a reason to assume change. She hadn't been forgiving and just because She didn't dish out any punishments on Earth anymore didn't mean She'd gone soft.

But here was his proof, sitting next to him on a sofa in the back of an old-fashioned bookshop. There was proof God was capable of forgiveness that didn't come at any other price than a thorough change of heart, that didn't come from fear but from love and dedication. Here was proof that one could be redeemed.

He didn't know what to do with it.

"Oh my darling boy, I didn't mean to upset you." Aziraphale's hand gently touched his knee and Crowley blinked twice. His eyes were wet. He cleared his throat, twice, although he had no intention of saying anything yet. Aziraphale didn't, either, only made miniscule circular motions with his fingers. Crowley ultimately decided to clear his throat again, just for good measure.

"Sorry," he mumbled several minutes later. "Don't know what brought that on." That was a blatant lie if there ever was one, but Aziraphale let it slide for the moment. He knew Crowley wouldn't talk when pushed for it. "Didn't think’t was a thing She did, y'know? Letting you redeem yourself."

Slowly, the weight of the words dawned on Aziraphale. If Crowley had looked, he could have witnessed how it dragged the corners of his mouth down and the soft smile was replaced by a sad, sympathetic expression.

_Unforgivable. 'S what I am._

Crowley’s words rang in his ears, the certainty within, and he could all too well remember his vacant expression when he had told him that he forgave him. He had seemed utterly at a loss. Just like now.

"Oh, Crowley," he said and suddenly clutched Crowley's hands in both of his, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"'S alright, angel, really. I'm... I'm all right. Thing is, I don't think I would change anything I did. Wouldn't stop the questions... I'd tempt Eve again... And if that's her judgment, doing it all again hardly would change anything, now, would it?" The question whether it was just still remained to be answered, but Crowley had only been known for asking questions, not answering them, and anyway, what good would it do him to answer the question for himself? But as he looked upon Aziraphale, he saw what good it might do him. Aziraphale had found his punishment just. Not immediately, but he could hardly blame him. He had screamed bloody murder at her as soon as he'd found his voice again, back in the early days.

"'S weird, isn't it? Having a body and next thing you know, it's not your body anymore, and your body isn't your body anymore either?" Crowley swore it had made more sense in his head, but he didn't bother clarifying. Aziraphale nodded.

"I think that's why I'm... quite attached to my corporation, as it is." That made sense. Crowley had reclaimed his control by designing his body after his own volition, over and over again. At least that human form was malleable. But he could see that someone else might cling to what they had, careful not to change it again. "And you are... Sorry, that's not a sensible thing to ask." Crowley turned more towards Aziraphale, finally facing him again. His mind drew to a grinding halt. Their hands were still casually interlaced. With a little luck, he wouldn't return to complete stasis at this revelation.

"Ask away, angel. Who knows when we'll get that far again." Aziraphale furrowed his brows and nodded determinedly.

"In Eden... When things went down like a lead balloon, as you so aptly put it... Were you punished?" Crowley nodded, his expression revealing surprisingly little. "As you said, Genesis isn't exactly the most accurate Gospel, and I wasn't there when things went down, which was the biggest part of the problem, come to think of it, and I didn't know whether to believe it. Then I remembered how little you liked eating, then again was it presumptuous to assume that everybody should like eating, maybe it really wasn't your thing, but was it still polite to ask you to have lunch or would that remind you-"

"Angel," Crowley interrupted him gently, "breathe." The moment the word was out, Crowley saw how utterly ridiculous that request was, but Aziraphale took some calming, steadying breaths anyway.

"Sorry. It's been bothering me for quite some time, you see." Now Crowley was curious.

"For how long exactly?" Aziraphale started to fidget.

"Oh, you know, somewhen between Rome and London, I think. Might have been during my time in Germany, come to think of it."

"So you've been mulling this over for something between one and two thousand years, give or take?" Aziraphale pressed his lips together until they were merely a thing line and nodded. Crowley shook his head, incredulous.

"It wasn't a sensible thing to ask. I didn't know how to bring it up," Aziraphale all but whined, and Crowley chuckled.

"'S not as bad as you think it is, you know? Haven't eaten before, don't exactly know what I'm missing out on. I can smell really well with my tongue, though, so there's that. And She didn't include drinking in her curse, which's a stupid thing to do, really. 'm kinda grateful, though." And with that, he lifted his wineglass to his lips again.

Aziraphale really couldn’t imagine a worse curse than having everything you eat taste like ashes. Maybe Crowley was right, he hadn’t been used to it in Eden either, so maybe it merely never would have come up, but the thought of all the things Crowley didn’t experience…

“Y’know what?”, Crowley asked as he flopped back onto the sofa, returning to a position that was a lot more natural for him, his legs stretched out over Aziraphale’s lap. “I think you’re kinda right. In that roundabout, Buddhist kinda way. Everything that happened lead to this and… Don’t think I can complain right now.” Aziraphale smiled at him, in that way that could light up an entire city

“No, my dear, I don’t think I can complain, either.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and sticking with me through this long, long bit of dialogue. I hope you liked it. Kudos and comments are always appreciated (and whoever finds a typo, give me a hint, I don't see it anymore...)


End file.
